SONNETS 92 and 93

Sonnet-92-Who will debunk thee thy ontology in the ages to come,if it be not thy history postmortem legible,who will demote thee,if it were in thy lifetime fill'd with sands,charcoals,thorns and thistles?It is he posthumous and voxdei voxpopuli be thy verdict,Though yet earth's evocative be,shall soon postmortem eviscerate thee of thy history,thy immortal relics,It is bogus but thee like a flagstaff on a mountain,Which in obscurity hides thee in defiled epoch of the fugacious winds,if thou could thy history write of the ensconce of your legible self by all and if possible rewrite them,And in thy earthbound earthenware paginates by declination,The bossom'd graces would say'thy impact massive:such ethereal moistures distill'd aboard a throng of earthly beneath',and not otherwise,So should thy far and nigh and cosmopolitan influence the same speaks thy colosal volume,Be it then ditty, thy immortal crust lies on the sands of time

Sonnet-93

-And then the far and nigh,shalt not whatsoever be scorn'd in thee,And longest thou live postmortem in thy legatees,all asundry and as crown'd by the bard's panygery,And stretched thy versification of a ballad into a crescendo of checker'd but glori'd antecedence,But where backward violets,the numbs of benumbed city abound,they should by history be forgotten heels and in that bogus earth hast being interr'd in the sands of time;for by history we are made and by history we are judged,O history thou indeed the final arbiter of mankind,rescue me in my humble abode,that by my works shall pay me by relics of time,Shall i then compare thee to a loungelizard?thou art more intemperate,a juggling pacifist and ruinous sinew'd of shallow bud fibbing to the boos of history and seasons'dislodge of thee thy hoofs,too vile an appoggee of the silvermoon to come;inextricably twin'd the hazy eyes of distant lands,yet thy bald pate disavow'd, And oft is the dye of the nadir barely dwindled